Carnage and Canapés
by Hellish Gnome
Summary: The Doctor takes Martha to the 32nd century, and the most famous dinner party in galactic history. But as a conspiracy unwinds more than the guests' digestion is soon at stake. Chaos and flying forks ensue.


_Author's Note: This story is set in between "42" and "Human Nature". Enjoy!_

**Carnage and Canapés **

When a spoon is hurtling towards your head there's not an awful lot you can do about it, apart from be thankful it's not a fork. Being the optimistic type Martha took this option, and clenched her eyes shut as the unruly cutlery bounced off her brow.

Meal-time in the TARDIS was never usually a long-lasting affair. Not willing to break up potential travels, more often than not the Doctor would simply turn to one of his bizarre machines to provide the fastest service available in form of chemically-balanced pills. Once in a while, however, either he or Martha would get a craving for something less processed and they would seek out the foods of their desires across the universe. These excursions were generally pleasurable, but also bizarre, experiences. She had discovered foods which defied all the laws of science. She had sunbathed under beams of light that administered nutrients through the skin; she had drunken liquid songs (_What a Wonderful World_ and _Imagine_ to be precise) and swallowed a small gremlin-like creature which wriggled down her throat and lived, quite comfortably, in her digestive system eating any fatty tissue it could find, which made running for her life- a common occurrence when living with the Doctor- easier than ever. All the same, she was not too sad after its three week life span drew to a close, as it was a grouchy little thing and she still hadn't got over the initial fright of the muffled squeaks from her stomach complaining that she didn't eat enough pork scratchings.

However, the last time they had gone out to eat she had been taken to a restaurant perched in the foggy swamplands of Etchdell and had been overcome with frustration, struggling to tear apart a grimy root to suck on the ooze that seeped through its core. When finally the root exploded, engulfing Martha with its contents, the Doctor suggested than when you're dining in unknown depths of the universe supplying your own cutlery is a good idea.

"It's been a while since I used the kitchen," the Doctor had said, leading her down the TARDIS corridors, "but I seem to remember the cutlery's in the third drawer down directly as you go in." No sooner had he opened the door when Martha had to duck to narrowly avoid decapitation by a speeding spatula. The contents of the kitchen were caught whirling frenziedly around a small cup and saucer that lay in the middle of the room, emitting frequent bursts of electrical light. Martha had felt a vigorous energy tugging at her body, trying to drag her into the cup's trajectory field. It was not a buffeting force, like a gale, more a continuous hauling, making it hard to keep her balance. _This is how it must feel to be metal next to a magnet_, she had thought.

"Oh, that's right!" the Doctor had exclaimed, "I accidentally triggered an Isolated Gravitational Potential-Amplifier Sphere in here a few years back…moral of the story, never buy any drink which you question the atomic make-up of." He had fumbled through his pockets and produced two small medallions each attached to a chain. In their centres lay small, turquoise crystals which throbbed with pulses of light.

"These should increase your own gravitational durance," he had said, slipping one round her neck before applying his own, "they may make your ears pop a little, but just take some deep swallows." With a childish grin he had told her to grab what she could before plunging into the fray.

Martha rubbed the spot on her temple, still red with the imprint of the spoon, before diving onto the ground as a kettle lid skimmed the top of her head. The wrenching force was gone; instead she felt sluggish, like every action had to be forced. Clambering back to her feet she glanced at the Doctor who had managed to get hold of a pan lid and was using it to shield himself against the sharper objects in the room.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Don't touch the sphere."

"Why not?"

"It'll negate you out of existence itself."

"You almost forgot _that_?!" she yelled out over the sound of colliding utensils. The Doctor chuckled.

"You think this is bad you should have been with me when I was in the Latter Soplax regions, I had just- _Corkscrew_!" Martha side-stepped to avoid the twirling missile. She scanned her eyes through the clutter of objects and spotted a knife on the other side circuiting round towards her. Grabbing a chopping board that was homing in on the inside edge, she thrust it forward into the course of the knife and gave a laugh of relief as she heard the twang of the blade embedding into the wood. Delighted that half of the work was done, she turned her attention towards the search for a fork. Eventually she saw one circling on the outside edge, cunningly hidden behind the same kettle lid that nearly hit her before. With a well aimed kick she sent the lid flying and drove her board into the path of the fork, where it stuck firmly into its centre. She spun round to face the Doctor, beaming with triumph.

"I got them!"

"Great! Head towards the door."

By weaving in and out of a clan of teaspoons Martha worked her way towards the exit and- with one final leap over a low flying toaster- grabbed the door handle to hoist herself out of the room. She paused for a second to regain her breath before unfastening the medallion. There was a yelp from inside the room and seconds later the Doctor tumbled out clutching his shin in one hand and a knife and fork in the other. She rushed to support him.

"Are you all right?"

"Urgh! Yeah, fine. Just a bruise. Stupid blender. Were you hit?"

"Nope," said Martha, not without a degree of smugness, "I always was good at dodgeball at school."

"What's 'Dodge Ball'?"

"It's a sport. You, er, sort of…dodge…balls. You know, being thrown at you."

"And that's _fun_ is it?" The Doctor rubbed his shin in disbelief and hobbled over to the TARDIS console.

"So after all that where are we going to eat?"

The Doctor looked up at her and his face broadened out into a playful smile.


End file.
